Caught in the Storm
by Broken Storms
Summary: After a day of terrible tragedy, Ruffnut is charged with watching over a sick and grieving Snotlout, much to the annoyance of them both. However, the two of them see sides to each other they didn't think existed. But with more pressing things to deal with- Like dragons suddenly going mad- Do they really have time for love? (Rufflout. Some Hiccstrid.) First Fanfic
1. The Call of the Wild

**Welcome to my first fanfic. I've been a long time fan of the ****_How to Train Your Dragon_**** universe and I love it. Now that I've watched both movies and most of the Riders of Berk episodes, I finally feel that I am fit to write a fanfic on this. But, I'll admit, I'm nervous.**

**I've always felt that Snotlout was sort of a misunderstood character. Like yeah, he's a total butt sometimes and he totally needs to be put in his place, but I feel like there's a lot more there to him than people give him credit for. That being said, he might seem pretty OOC in this story, especially this first chapter, but that's mostly because it's a pretty sad chapter Like with Snotlout, I've always felt Ruffnut was smarter than anyone gave her credit for. I think that she's strong, pretty, and totally capable. And more than that, I think Ruffnut and Snotlout would be pretty good dang good for each other. However, don't be surprised if Ruffnut is kinda OOC in here too.**

**-Don't get me wrong, Fishlegs is nice and all, but he really doesn't seem life Ruff's... Type. Though she could totally surprise people by liking him over Snotlout. But not in this fic! Nope, I like me some good Rufflout. And, hey, this is a fanfiction! We can do what we want, right? :D**

**Just to clear things up, this takes place sometime just after the second movie. Where Hiccup is Chief and Valka is back.**

**Alright, I think I've said enough :) I hope you enjoy my story. Please review! And if you like it, why not throw a follow or a fav in there, eh?**

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><p>It was <em>cold<em>, somehow even colder than when it snowed. The rain had soaked them all through their clothes, through their skin, to the bone. They'd never been this cold in their lives. The rain pelted them, the wind howled, the sky and sea raged together. Still the Riders of Berk came to the aid of the most obnoxious of them all; Snotlout. There stood the Jorgenson boy atop the sea stacks, arms outstretched, his voice straining over the wind as he called to an enraged Hookfang. All his friends flew nearby, calling to the boy himself, trying to get him to get on Toothless and fly away because of the danger of the storm. But it was for nothing, because if there was anything that boy loved, anything he'd give his life for, it was his dragon.

"I can help you Hookfang!" He yelled, ignoring the world that seethed and raged around them, ignoring how the sea stack shook beneath his feet as monstrous waves collided with the side of it. "We can work through this, whatever problem there is!"

Gods, he hated how desperate he sounded, how desperate he looked. He'd even stolen Hiccup's dragon to get out here. And now the rest of them had come to see him, to watch him fail again. Just like with everything in the past year. No one took him seriously, no one bothered to listen to him… But how could he blame them? How could he blame them when all he ever did was put on an act, gloat and toss insults at everyone around him, try to be the best all of the time?_ And fail- Let's not forget that part._

He'd lost a lot in the past few years. The love from his father, the respect of all his peers- not that there was much in that area, but still- any chance he had at someday being chief, at bringing any honor at all to the Jorgenson clan really. And for the most part he stood there and took it, let it beat against him like it was nothing, really just for the sakes of his friends, even for the sake of his cousin, his supposed rival, of _Hiccup_. He feigned ignorance, tried to pretend that his father's threats weren't real, tried to act as if nothing had changed, as if he thought he was still the best. And never did he dare tell any of this to his friends… But he did tell one person, _well dragon_, he told Hookfang.

He always told Hookfang. He told the Monstrous Nightmare everything. If there was anyone in the world who knew anything about Snotlout Jorgenson, it was Hookfang. The red dragon had been like a brother to him. Once Snotlout had heard Hiccup say that when Hiccup looked into Toothless's eyes, he had seen himself, a reflection of his soul. Despite what the others thought it was the same between him and Hookfang. Both of them were stubborn, both of them tried to show off, both of them gloated and stomped around and tried to lead. They were the same, they were brothers.

At least they had been, until a month ago.

They'd all heard the story. About how some villager's dragon had gone crazy and up and flew away one day after trying to bite the man's head off. At first no one could figure out why the Nadder had left. That was until Hiccup and Astrid had spotted it a few weeks later, fishing at a small lake on a nearby island, living as if it had never lived with humans. And it didn't seem to recognize Astrid or Hiccup at all, despite the fact that they'd helped the man to train it several times before, it didn't even recognize Stormfly or even Toothless, the only Night Fury they had ever found, the _only one that dragon had even come into contact with_. Then they knew the explanation. The dragon had, to put it simply, heard the Call of the Wild. Why? Hiccup had said it was because that dragon had been a wild dragon for most of it's life before the peace.

So had Hookfang.

So when Snotlout's Monstrous Nightmare, his best friend, had suddenly snapped on him during feeding time a month ago, he could think of only one thing to explain it. Sure, Hookfang and him got a little violent sometimes, but it was always just for play, never enough to seriously hurt either of them. And besides, whenever feeding time rolled around, Hookfang was completely harmless, his mind only on the fish. Never before had he been territorial about food. But that morning, when Snotlout called to the dragon to get his attention so he could through him the fish, Hookfang had gone crazy. He'd turned around, seemingly normal, and almost caught the fish being flung his way before catching sight of Snotlout and roaring in fury. Snotlout had never heard Hookfang make a sound like that before. It was one of not only rage, but fear, and that was something else Snotlout had never witnessed from his dragon before. And to make the situation worse- When he tried to place a hand on the Nightmare's snout in attempt to calm him, Hookfang bit him. It had been more than just a playful nip, even Hiccup had thought so, it had been enough make several angry tears up the boy's arm.

His friends had tried to tell him it was just an accident, that maybe he'd startled the dragon, or maybe Hookfang smelled or saw something that alarmed him, like with the dragon Root. But all Snotlout could think of was that other runaway dragon. It didn't help that with each passing day it only grew worse.

By the seventh day, even the twins knew and agreed that there was something wrong with Hookfang. They tried to have Gobber look at his teeth again, but the Nightmare wouldn't anyone within twenty feet of him, and Gobber hadn't seen anything troubling from the 'glimpse' he'd gotten after Hookfang roared in his face.

Things changed after that. Hookfang only got more and more violent as the days passed. Eventually, Hiccup decided they should keep the dragon in the academy's training ring until they could figure out what was the matter. From behind the chains and bars, Hookfang roared and flamed up for hours and hours, even during feeding time. Snotlout and the others could hardly even get near the training ring, and not just from the blasts shot their way but the intense, scorching heat the dragon was putting off in his anger.

Finally, that morning as the rain drizzled miserably down onto Berk, when Snotlout brought up the story of the runaway dragon again, Hiccup and the others actually believed him. And then his cousin did the unthinkable. To everyone's protests, even those of the other dragons- Toothless included!- Hiccup opened the gates to the ring and_ let Hookfang go_. The Monstrous Nightmare was out of sight in less than a minute. Heart shattering itself into a trillion tiny shard, Snotlout did the only thing he could think to do. He jumped on the back of Toothless and forced the Night Fury into the sky after Hookfang, ignoring the difficulty of Toothless's prosthetic tail, pulling haphazardly on the rod and wire systems just to keep them from dropping out of the sky.

It had taken them only a few minutes to find the other dragon sitting on the sea stacks where they usually gathered for training, staring into the churning waters hundreds of feet below with an empty, wild gleam in his eyes Snotlout had never seen before. The others had not been far behind them- Hiccup included, riding with Astrid on Stormfly.

Now here they were, both the storms in full blast, dragons and riders all caught between the winds.

"Snotlout!" He heard Hiccup call. "It's not safe up there, get back on Toothless and fly to the cliffs! I'm sorry I let Hookfang out, I promise you we'll look for him after the storm clears!"

But Snotlout couldn't. He couldn't leave his only friend, his brother, out here in this storm alone. He couldn't just let him fly away… He had to try… "Hookfang," Gods he hated the brokenness of his voice, the despair finally showing itself. "Please, Hookfang. Don't go, don't leave me all alone there, don't make me face everything by myself." At least the wind might hide his words from the others, though it was probably too much to hope for. "You don't have to go, we could figure something out! I'll let you out to do whatever you want every day. You can fly whenever you want, you can even fly alone! Just come back."

The dragon didn't even look at him, didn't even budge. _But maybe that's a good thing,_ Snotlout thought. _He's not freaking out like before… Maybe He's considering my words._ He took a hopeful step toward the dragon.

It was a terrible mistake.

Hookfang's head swung around sharply to stare at the boy approaching. His eyes, so full of pure wild, stared into Snotlout's. This time, Snotlout did not see the reflection of his soul, this time he didn't even see his dragon's, he saw nothing. The wild was stronger than the soul…_ Or maybe, the wild is his soul._

_But what about me?_

Snotlout wasn't given a chance to answer that question for himself as Hookfang swung a wing at him and swept him off his feet. He hit the stone hard, the impact jarring his bones a bit. There was no time to dwell on the momentary pain, however, for Hookfang was advancing on him. He scurried to his feet, fighting against the wind and rain and the shaking of the sea stack.

"Snotlout! Get on Toothless now!" Hiccup yelled from Stormfly. "You have to!" But Snotlout wouldn't._ I'm a Jorgenson. Jorgensons do not give up, on anything.. On anyone…_ He shook his head. Hiccup growled. "Please, Snotlout! I promise we'll look for Hookfang. I promise!"

He couldn't… No, he wouldn't.

Snotlout ran at Hookfang, determined that this time, if he could just touch him, this time it would work. The dragon was slightly caught off guard, rearing back onto it's legs and giving a roar of surprise. Hand outstretched, he yanked on Hookfang's neck. Rider and dragon were eye to eye, face to face. Snotlout's hand went to Hookfang's snout-

And suddenly the stone of the sea stack was no longer beneath his feet. Above him he heard a scream and several shouts of terror. Above him was Hookfang's face, the shine of Wild finally gone from his eyes… All that was there was fear.

_Fear._

Snotlout stared up at the sky in disbelief and betrayal, watched his dragon's face and the reflection of his soul get farther and farther away from him. His helmet tumbled from his head...

The sound of him hitting the water was lost among the thunder that split the sky and the crashing of the waves.

The other Riders stared in horror as their friend, their rebel, their obnoxious, annoying brat was hauled beneath the waves, lost. His helmet the only thing left of him.

Their tears mixed with the rain and the spray of the sea.


	2. Awake and Alseep

**Here's chapter two. _I'M_ actually sick right now myself, so describing how Snotlout's feeling with his fever, is pretty close to how I was feeling a couple of days ago. I purposely tried to make that part seem a little confusing or disorienting since that's how it would seem to Snotlout- And because that's how it seems in real life lol.**

**This chapter's sort of just a filler chapter, so it's really not that interesting. But next chapter we'll see a little more development and excitement in the story.**

**Anyway, enjoy! Please feel free to review!**

An even harsher cold closed around Snotlout in an instant. This time it was _painfully_ cold, his head and bones screaming against it. Unable to control himself, he gasped for breath the moment he was under. Water flooded his lungs, it was more painful than anything he'd felt in his life. Yet still, not even the pain of the cold and his failing body could beat the emotional pain he felt. His dragon had just thrown him into the sea.

_Hookfang._

At the thought of him, Snotlout didn't bother fighting against the waves. _So much for not giving up,_ He thought mournfully and let the water take him. Above him he could see nothing through the seafoam and waves, a dull white and stormy gray. All around him was a deep black. For a moment panic took him and he thrashed for the surface, the nothingness of the dark water around him terrifying. But the surface was unreachable, and the burning in his chest and throat was too much to bear. He closed his eyes and tried to drown his fear like the water that was drowning him. _You are a viking, you do not fear death._

But he did.

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><p>Hiccup jumped from Stormfly's back the moment he saw his cousin go under, Toothless jumping from the sea stack to catch him. Together the Night Fury and his rider dove into the waves to retrieve someone they never thought they'd have to save. The cold of the water was terrible as it closed around them and it took everything in Hiccup not to gasp as soon as they entered it. It was the kind of cold that did more than just ache, but instead stabbed through you with a painful jolt. Snotlout was already unconscious as they pulled him from the water and back onto the sea stack. The other Riders swarmed them as soon as they landed.<p>

A sudden roar tore their attention away from Snotlout for a moment. All eyes snapped up to see Hookfang flying up into the clouds, where Thor's wrath waited. Hiccup tried to call to the Monstrous Nightmare, but he was cut off by a roar of grief and massive flash as dragon and lightning collided. When the flash was over the dragon was already gone.

Astrid shook his shoulder, tearing his gaze away from the spot where Hookfang had once been. "We have to help him," She pointed to Snotlout who lay still, his lips blue and skin pale except for the harsh, purple rings beneath his eyes. Even half dead his face bore an expression of pain only Hiccup could truly understand; Grief. Hurriedly they went to work pumping the water from his chest and trying to get him breathing again. Finally he started to cough, puking up sea water and bile, and after a few more agonizing moments of stillness afterward, he opened his bleary eyes. They stared at the sky, unseeing, but flickered about in fear.

"We need to go!" Hiccup shouted to the others. They called their dragons over, Toothless stopping to prod at Snotlout in concern. "It's ok, buddy, he's gonna ride with us." Quickly as he could manage, he pulled his grief-broken, half-drowned cousin into the saddle in front of him and they soared toward Berka as fast as they could manage.

The storm did not stop for three days, through all of which Snotlout laid unconscious on a cot in Gothi's house. To Hiccup it was oddly fitting that the sky would grieve just as they did. They took turns visiting Snotlout, just sitting next to him, unable to help the pity that they felt for him.

"He looks so broken," Astrid said when it came to be her turn to watch him. "It's… It's scary, seeing him like this."

And it was scary, even to the twins it was scary, even to Fishlegs it was scary. The way he just laid there in silence, eyes closed, perpetually trapped between life and death. Though he wasn't hypothermic anymore, on the contrary he now had a fever, the dark rings never did leave their place beneath his eyes. That expression of grief never left his face either. And all the while, Hiccup understood. It was the same grief as when he'd lost his father, the same grief that tugged at him to this day.

Speaking of fathers, not once during the time that Snotlout slept did his father come to visit him. Hiccup had been surprised. While he knew that Spitelout had always pressured his son to uphold the 'Jorgenson Honor', he never would've thought his uncle _this_ cruel. "I mean, he's just lost his dragon," Hiccup told Astrid. "Not to mention that he just about died. I can't believe that Spitelout won't even come and _see_ him!"

Astrid nodded and looked over at the boy on the bed. The same sad look everyone got while looking at him, coloring her pretty features. No longer did they view Snotlout with the same disdain or faint annoyance that they used to. Things had changed now, everyone knew it but no one could predict what might come next, and it had them all on edge. "I guess… If he won't be there for him, we'll have to."

It was Hiccup's turn to nod. "Yeah, we will." He placed a hand over Astrid's and smiled at her. "But that's ok, because we'll all do this together." They would have to, because if there was one thing they knew about Snotlout, grieving or not, is that he would be difficult. He always was.

The morning after the storm was over, Berk now a mess of mud and muck, Snotlout awoke. He was alone when he awoke, the cold air outside seeping in through the cracks and holes in the walls of Gothi's home. At first he had no clue where he was, and didn't care enough to try and figure it out. The pain in his head was too great and his body protested against every movement he made, even just trying to turn his head or lift his hand. He couldn't even speak, his throat burning at the effort to make any sound. All he could manage was a slight rasp and even that was painful. Only when he could see clearly did he recognize that it was Gothi's home, her walking/writing stick leaning against the wall next to the bed where the woman herself lay asleep.

_Gods,_ He thought, _If Gothi's still asleep it must really be early._ Then it hit him, and the grief poured in. He remembered the sea stacks, he remembered the fall, he remembered the betrayal, remembered the ocean pulling him under, why he was in Gothi's house at all. Any desire he had to get up left him as he remembered, remembered that there was no reason to get up at all. Not that he even could.

There was a particularly cold gust of wind outside and he shivered and tried to shift so that he was further under the thin wool blanket. But it was too much effort, and even if he could ignore the pain enough to move, it was dizzying to do so. Even glancing around the room made his eyes and head hurt. He let out another rasp that was supposed to be a groan and wished for water for his throat. Finally he just gave up and stared at the ceiling above him with half-open eyes, drifting in his exhaustion, somewhere between consciousness and sleep. He didn't even notice the thud as someone landed on the deck outside or the soft knocking at the door. Only when Gothi got up and shuffled across the room to answer the door did he come back to his senses a bit, eyes flickering as much as they could toward the door.

The door opened and Hiccup walked inside, Toothless poking his head in for a moment to take a look at Snotlout, see him awake, and give a small affectionate purr. Hiccup, too, noticed Snotlout awake and hurried to the side of the cot. There was another thump outside and Astrid appeared in the doorway. Hiccup called her over. The two stood over Snotlout's bed, smiling.

"Finally decided to wake up," Astrid half joked. There was an almost worried look on her face. Almost worried, but a little of something else too. Snotlout could tell they were being careful around him. It was annoying.

He tried to nod, only to rasp out another groan. Finally someone brought him water. He tried to grab the cup and drink it himself, but his stiff body wouldn't budge and the more he tried to move, the more his face twisted up in pain. Astrid propped up his head and tipped the cup so he could drink, he shot Hiccup the best triumphant smirk he could manage. His cousin just rolled his eyes.

"Woah," Astrid said, almost dropping his head. "He's burning up again."

Snotlout frowned. Burning up? He certainly didn't feel like it, he felt freezing. Once more he tried to shift beneath the woolen blanket and it was at that moment that he realized he had no shirt on. Now slightly embarrassed, he tried even harder to get beneath the blanket. But Gothi only ripped it off of him and started pressing a cold, wet cloth to his stress. He cringed against the feeling, panic gripping him for a second as he remembered being in the clutches of the stormy sea. He cried out, his voice finally back but still terribly hoarse, someone grabbed his hands. Suddenly someone propped up his head again and bitter liquid was being forced down his throat. _More memories of drowning._ He coughed and sputtered and tried to pull himself out of the grip on his head, but whoever held his hands had him good.

Confusion settled in as the world began to sway, a layer of hazey dizziness settling over everything. The room suddenly seemed darker and he could hardly see. All he wanted to do was close his eyes again and go to sleep, but there seemed to be a million hands grabbing at him, wrestling with him, holding him down. The more he fought against the hands, the more they held him still. Inside he was screaming, thrashing and fighting to escape, all the while feeling much to heavy and hurt to do so. At last his strength seemed to give away and he laid still. The hands retreated, in the background he heard the voices of the twins and Fishlegs, and then there was only one hand holding his own. And he fell back into the void of sleep.

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><p>Ruffnut stared down at Snotlout in bewilderment and slight fear. The boy had been thrashing on the cot in the midst of a feverish fit when she and Tuffnut had come with Fishlegs. They all had to hold him so that Gothi could give his medicine and cool off his body. When she placed her hands over his wrists, trying to anchor them to the table alongside Astrid, his skin had felt like fire. He looked even worse than he felt. His dark hair had been matted against his forehead, his blue eyes wide with fear, face twisted into pain, skin unnaturally pale even in the dim light of the room.<p>

And then when he had finally calmed and everyone else pulled their hands away, he had grabbed hers and gripped it in his own, hard, refusing to let go.


	3. Father and Son

**This chapter might be a little disturbing to some people. It's a pretty dark chapter as it deals with some of Snotlout's relationship with his father. I've always had this strange feeling that Spitelout's a pretty abusive father. Maybe it's because I was abused myself that I feel like I can pick up when situations are like how mine were.**

**So just a warning. In this story, Spitelout is not a 'good guy'. He's been pretty brutal to his son over the years. In future stories to come, maybe Spitelout won't be so much of a prick, but in this story he's most definetly an 'antagonist.' Also, some of the the scenes between Spitelout and Snotlout are inspired by my own memories. I feel like I relate to Snotlout in a sense. I was sometimes sort of a bully, definetly not an entirely friendly person unless you actually bothered to sit down and talk to me. I always felt like if I wasn't this intimidating... Thing... Then people were going to hurt me again. I put up a lot of false walls, I acted a lot like Snotlout does. I lash out a lot how he does. Maybe this story will be some sort of healing process for me, some way to vent.**

**I don't know. I just want... Peace, I guess.**

**I'm gonna stop rambling now. Enjoy this chapter. Please review :)**

Sleep was not peaceful this time but instead infested with nightmares. Dreams of stormy weather, waves moving over him, the weightless feeling of falling from the sea stacks, being taken by the water, and the unending darkness surrounding him. The crushing feeling of being unable to breathe and then the agony of water flooding his body, the salt in the water burning his eyes, the pressure of sinking deep and deeper. He was being swallowed by the vast ocean. _Drowning_. Even after he would start awake, the fever still heavy within him, the sensations stayed. The tingling ghosts of fear. Every time he would wake, he found it impossible to stay afloat for long before sleep would grip him again. The nightmares became repetitive, yet still he would jolt awake each time the dark water washed out all the light.

Finally, as night fell and the darkness stretched beyond the dreams, he fully awoke.

He was alone this time, not even Gothi was there, but from the deck outside he could hear voices. They spoke softly, half whispering. Yet despite how quietly they spoke, he did recognize _one_ voice; His father's, Spitelout's.

_Oh gods…_ There was much that went on inside the Jorgenson household that Berk's ever-watching gaze did not catch. Or maybe it did. Either way, no one ever bothered to do anything about it. But neither did Snotlout, even when the evidence was so, literally, painfully obvious. Sometimes even right there as a purple, bruised ring around his eye or a swell of indigo making an arch across his cheek… Marks made from the grip of thick fingers on his arms… A raised bump on the forehead… A bloodied lower lip… Even, once, a broken rib. They were all there over the years, these wounds. _Wounds._ Wounds that ran deeper than the skin, like a hole made by a Whispering Death. On the outside it was just a hole, but beneath the surface the damage ran so much deeper, digging through the earth until it crumbled.

_Wounds…_ What was it he had said when he, himself, had almost crumbled? "_Nothing a story can't fix."_ By fix, of course, he'd meant hide. Nothing an excuse, a story, a fib couldn't mask. Every time he'd left his house as a boy bearing the marks of his father's anger and insecurities he'd made something up to tell his friends. And then he hid behind that story as much as he could. 'Basked' in the fake glory that came with it, gave the impression that he was strong, even when the mask he'd made that time seemed to weigh more than his father's clenched fists.

"_Got in a fight with one of the older boys, gave him _two _black eyes!"_

"_Met a dragon in the forest. It attacked but I fought it off, see, I even have a battlescar. How bout it, Astrid?"_

"_Someone insulted the Jorgenson family. I made sure _his _family got the insult of its life."_ Always leaving out the part where the boy who'd insulted the Jorgenson name was actually _himself._ Or so said Spitelout.

Every Viking boy and girl in Berk, at one time or another in their lives, had earned themselves a good beating now and again. If you hadn't you weren't really a Viking. But where those kids had always done something to truly prompt their parents' anger, most of Snotlout's beatings had been over far simpler things, sometimes even for just being there, _existing_, at all.

Most Viking parents were harsh when it came to bringing honor to the family and upholding a good reputation. Bearing the family name was a burden bigger than it seemed. Especially the burden of the Jorgenson name, and Spitelout never let his son forget that for even a sliver of a moment. From the way they wore their braids, to how they ranked in the Thawfest games, most parents were all over their children about 'honor' and 'reputation' and 'carrying on the family name' and 'impressing a good suitor' and 'dignity' and 'being a formidable warrior' even after the dragons came and being the best warrior that ever walked the island wasn't as huge of a deal as before. Spitelout was not Most Parents. No, no. He was much worse.

Snotlout remembered it starting around the age of five. At first the man only put pressure on him, telling him over and over how he was to be better than all the boys. In the beginning Snotlout had thought his father meant that he already was better than all the other boys, but he was soon to learn it was the opposite. In the eyes of Spitelout his son had to be the best. Perfect. The perfect Viking, the best warrior, win all of the Thawfest competitions just as he and his father and his father's father all had. And more importantly, Snotlout was made to make sure all of the other boys knew just who was the 'best'.

By the time Snotlout was six the pressuring had evolved to punishments if he didn't act how his father wanted him to act toward the other boys. Slowly, Spitelout's punishments and pressuring was working on the young boy. Snotlout began to secretly fear many things. He feared his father, he feared he would never be good enough, he feared people seeing through the walls he was slowly but surely building around himself.

He began to try and inflict his pain on others, on those he thought weaker than he. He targeted Hiccup, he was easy prey to Snotlout. For every hit his father made against him, he took it out on Hiccup. For every harsh word, he said many more. For every push or shove, for every nasty name he was called, for every time he was made to feel like nothing. In the end, he was doing just what his father wanted. Yet it was never enough.

Soon the pressuring never ceased and the punishments were made harsher. No longer was it just being locked inside all day or having his helmet taken away or being sent to bed without dinner. Those things still happened, surely, but now those punishments and the harsh words that went with them were accompanied by cuffs to the head or lashes from a belt. As the years went by it got worse, and as it got worse behind those closed doors, it got worse beyond them too. Snotlout began to actually _seek out_ Hiccup, and not for someone to confide in. It was like he couldn't get through the day without inflicting some sort of pain upon his cousin.

Snotlout remembered the first _real_ beating he'd ever received from his father. It had happened when he was ten. What he'd done had been an accident really, he'd tripped over his own feet and knocked over his father's weapon rack, successfully cracking one of his father's best shields. Spitelout had blown up upon seeing the mess and when he saw his shield… That night Spitelout backhanded him so hard he couldn't see or hear straight for a couple of hours, and it was made all the worse when his father dragged out the belt and beat him truly senseless.

It seemed to Snotlout that the older he got, the worse his beatings were and the frequent they became, happening over stupid, pointless things to be so angry about. But Snotlout didn't _dare_ tell his father that. No, he'd prove himself to be the best warrior in Berk, he'd crush the competition as always. _Then_ the beatings would stop, _then_ his father would love him_._ They had to stop then, right? Didn't they?

_I was such a little fool to think they'd ever stop…_

No, they did not stop. No matter how many Thawfests he won, no matter how often he shoved Hiccup into the dirt and called him Hiccup the Useless, _they never stopped._ And, somehow, they only managed to get worse after Hiccup killed the Red Death and ended the dragon raids. What brought peace to Berk only brought greater violence in the Jorgenson household. And then, during one of the worst beatings he'd ever received in his life, Snotlout heard words that shattered every deed he'd done to try and please his father in his sixteen years of life; "_Why can't you be more like Hiccup?"_

His father asked him to 'be like' the very thing he'd ordered him to _never_ be.

Snotlout gave up after that. Slowly he tried to make his own way, get away from his father and the beatings. But still they came and still Snotlout only got more and more angry, more and more aggressive. Hookfang had been his only comfort.

_And now… He's gone..._


End file.
